Chuck v The Tail
by jane0904
Summary: Set some time second season, and just something I needed to get out of my brain! What does Casey do with his Buy More salary? Chuck determines to find out.


It was traditional. The last Friday of every month, everyone gathered in the break room, waiting for Big Mike.

"So what are you going to buy this time?" Chuck asked, lounging against the snack machine.

Morgan glanced around, making sure he wasn't overheard. "Well, it's Anna's birthday in a couple of weeks, so I've got to get my banana something. Only I'm not sure what." He narrowed his eyes. "I was thinking about the new Guitar Hero game. What do you think?"

Chuck shook his head. "Probably not a good idea. Remember Christmas? And World at War: Panzer Tank? You spent all day playing it, and then the rest of the holidays in the dog house."

"True. Very true, oh great wise one." He sighed. "Then I'm stuck."

"Why not get her something special?"

"Yeah, but Guitar Hero -"

"I mean something feminine. Perfume. You know what perfume she wears, right?"

Morgan looked unsure. "I … not really."

"Doesn't she have bottles on her dressing table?"

For once his friend managed to look shocked. "I don't rummage around in her … well, yes, I do, but she's got so many."

"Okay, okay, so we'll steer clear of perfume. How about some jewellery?"

A look of fear crossed Morgan's face. "You mean like a ring?"

"Not necessarily. Maybe a bracelet. Or a necklace."

"Sounds way too pricey, man."

"Again, not necessarily." Chuck sighed inwardly, seeing his free Saturday disappearing. "Look, why don't we go shopping? I'm sure we'll be able to find something in your price bracket that she'd like."

"Really?" Morgan couldn't have looked more relieved if he'd tried. "Although not tomorrow morning. I'm working overtime."

"Fine. I'll pick you up about two."

"Thanks, buddy."

"No problem."

The door opened and Big Mike breezed in, a clutch of payslips in his hand. "Okay, people," he said. "Orderly queue, and don't go spending it all at once."

---

Sarah was just finishing her shift at the Orange Orange, and smiled as Chuck walked towards her. "Hi."

"Hi." He dipped his head and brushed her lips with his, just once.

"Still not quite got the hang of public displays of affection, huh?" she asked, her eyes twinkling.

"I'm still catching up on the fact that we're sort of a supposed-to-be couple that might be underneath, let alone PDAs." He stuck his hands in his pockets. "So, you still on for tonight? Only Ellie insists."

"Of course." They headed towards her car. "Although why she wants me there -"

"It's an anniversary."

"I know that. But most people don't celebrate the first time they argued."

"Hey, they do. It doesn't exactly happen very often, so it has to be noted somewhere." He smiled, and her heart did its usual funny flip-flop. "Anyway, Ellie's cooking, and you know you don't want to pass up on that."

"I'll get fat."

"No, you won't. I can't see that happening. Besides, if you did there'd just be more of you to love." He realised what he'd said and turned away, not letting her see the blush that had threatened.

She didn't say anything, just gave him a moment. "So … do I bring anything?"

"Just yourself. Maybe a bottle of wine." He was back to normal.

"I can manage that."

They stopped at her car, and Chuck glanced towards the Buy More, seeing Casey in his green polo shirt heading out of the door. "There he goes. Regular as clockwork."

"What?" Sarah looked up from where she was putting her key in the lock. "You mean Casey?"

"I do. Every fourth Friday, unless we're in the middle of a job, he takes off for an hour. Never says where he's going or where he's been, just … goes."

"I expect it's something to do with the NSA." She opened the door.

"So you don't know either?" He looked at her, her blonde hair around her face making her look good enough to eat.

"We don't exactly talk about our private lives."

"Yeah, but Casey doesn't have one. I mean, he spends all his time either at the Buy More or listening in to my conversations, which I have to say I've gotten more than a little weirded out by in the past."

"He doesn't listen when you're doing … something you shouldn't." She slid behind the driver's wheel and he got in the other side.

"I hope not. Although I have been tempted to … you know. Just once in a while."

Sarah fought to hide a smile. "That wouldn't be fair."

"I know." He fastened his seatbelt. "Just saying it had crossed my mind."

"Well, uncross it. You know what he'd do to you if he found out."

"Nah. Me and him … we've got an understanding."

Sarah didn't answer, just raised an eyebrow at him before pulling the car out of the parking space.

They didn't talk for a few minutes until they were in the main flow of traffic, when Chuck asked, "What happens to your paycheck?"

"What?" She accelerated round a slow-moving Honda.

"Your paycheck. I presume you get paid for working at the Orange Orange. I mean, it's not like the Government pay them to …" He stopped. "Do they?"

"No, I get paid. But it goes to the CIA. I have their salary to live on, and …" She glanced at him. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason." He looked out at the other cars. "I just wondered. I suppose Casey's goes to the NSA."

"I suppose."

"It's not like he spends much on things. Apart from his Bonsai. And those pyjamas." A slight shudder ran through him at the internal image of Casey standing over Ellie, and her comment about how he looked like Dennis the Menace's father, just before she passed out.

Sarah shrugged, not knowing what was going through Chuck's mind. "Speaking for myself, I requisition what I need, and in most cases I get it. It means a lot of my salary goes into a savings account." She smiled. "When I do decide to give up this life of excitement, I'll have quite a nest-egg."

"So it would be worth marrying you for your money?"

"Not yet. Give it a few more years." She jammed her hand onto the horn. "If this idiot ever gets out of the way."

Chuck just sat back, letting her skill drive him home, while he pondered John Casey and the hidden depths he was sure were there. Admittedly, very well hidden, but …

---

Four weeks later, to the day, Chuck sat in the Nerd Herder, watching the front entrance to the Buy More. For twenty-eight days the itch of wondering what Casey did with his pay had been irritating him to the point where he almost asked the big agent himself. Luckily he hadn't, which meant he was still able to take solid food, but it was starting to drive him nuts.

He'd spoken to Big Mike, just in passing, but he'd only confirmed that Casey's money was paid into a bank account like everyone else's, coincidentally at the same branch as Chuck's was.

He knew he should have left it be, just forgotten about it, but something in the back of his mind told him there was more to it, even if the Intersect was silent on the subject. So here he was, about to put his life on the line and tail the NSA's top agent.

At least the anniversary meal had been a success, and the bracelet Morgan had finally decided on for Anna seemed to have gone down well, if the number of hickeys on his neck the next day was anything to go by. That and the wide grin on his best friend's face.

They'd also stopped a major arms dealer from shipping low-grade plutonium out of the country, and arrested three shoplifters, but all in all it was a quiet month. Until now.

The door to the Buy More slid open and Casey strode out. Not that Chuck was that way inclined, but there was something about this man's walk that just shouted concealed danger, of a power held in check just waiting to bust out. And the way he climbed into his black SUV …

Now, what were the rules? Thirty feet? No. Thirty yards. Keep a cushion of thirty yards between the tailer and the tailee. Although there was more traffic as people headed home for the weekend, or maybe making an early start on a longer break. Still, as he slid behind a grey Volvo, Chuck was grateful that Casey drove a car as big as he was.

They drove for twenty minutes, heading into the hills, before Casey pulled through a pair of wrought iron gates set into high walls, stopping in front of a large, red-brick building.

Chuck slowed, parking the Nerd Herder a little way further along, before getting out and walking back, peering around the gate post. Casey was already at the door, being greeted by a nun.

A nun? Chuck ducked back, leaning on the stonework. What was Casey doing somewhere where there were nuns? He wasn't religious, at least as far as Chuck knew.

He looked again, but the door was closed, then realised there was a plaque on the wall above him. Stepping back, he read the incised words.

_The St Ursula's School for Sick Children._

Sick children? What could Casey want with … Oh, no. Perhaps he was visiting the off-spring of someone he … No. He wouldn't. Not Casey. He was a professional, and that wasn't … But then, what else? As he pondered, Chuck felt a wave of guilt flood through him as the truth struck home. Whatever Casey was doing here, it wasn't his business, and he shouldn't have invaded his private life like this.

He slunk back to the Nerd Herder, firing it up and heading home, wishing he'd never given in to the impulse.

When he finally reached the apartment, having gotten lost twice on the way back, he was feeling truly sorry for himself, and this was turning into anger at Casey. As he let himself in, glad that Ellie and Awesome were working the late shift, he was muttering to himself.

"The big lug. Always has to be the strong silent type. Maybe it's his kid. No. Can't be. He'd never let himself caught out like that. Although he'd probably make a good dad." He switched on his bedroom light.

"Bartowski."

"Wha!" He jumped almost out of his skin, staring at Casey standing just inside the open window. "Do you have to do that?" he asked, feeling his heart pounding.

"If you intend to make a career out of tailing people, I'll show you how. And the first lesson is, try not to do it in that damn circus of a car, idiot," Casey said quietly.

"Tailing? What tailing?" Chuck tried to look innocent.

"I saw you. From the moment we left the car park, right up until we reached St Ursula's."

"So? What if I did?" He decided to bluster it out. "You never talk about anything! The few things we know about you, about your past, we've had to pry out of you! We almost had to use dynamite!"

Casey's eyes narrowed. "So Walker was involved as well?"

"No!"

"I didn't think she'd be that unprofessional, although she's been hanging out with you for so long …" He stepped forward, seeming to fill the room. "So? I'm still waiting for an explanation."

"I was … out for a drive, and I …" The look on Casey's face, along with the growling sound emanating from deep in the back of his throat, stopped Chuck mid-word. "Okay. I was curious. Once a month, regular as clockwork. I just wanted to know where you went." Something dawned on him. "And how come you were waiting for me? I know I got lost coming back, but -"

"I know a shortcut."

Chuck could see Casey was truly angry, mainly due to the ice-cold nature of his blue eyes, but also the tiny little vein throbbing on the side of his forehead. "You know, you need to calm down. You could have a stroke, or an aneurysm …"

"My private life is just that," Casey said. "I don't let anyone in. Not anyone."

"But we're friends! And sometimes you need to talk about things. Remember Ilsa? Come on, Casey. It wasn't meant to invade your space or anything. I was just wondering what happened to your paycheck. And Sarah said the CIA gets hers, and I wondered if that was the same for you, and then that reminded me about how you go somewhere each month and I … was … curious." His voice died away.

"Curious."

"You know. Because we're friends." Chuck tried a smile. At least the vein in Casey's forehead wasn't jumping around to a Latin beat anymore.

"Why is it so important to you, Chuck?"

There'd been another time, in the Buy More break room, when he'd used just those words, right before they'd made a significant change in their relationship, and Chuck took heart. "Because I care, buddy." He took a leap into the unknown. "So, is it someone in your family?"

Casey stared at him a moment longer, then sighed heavily, lowering himself into the chair by the window. He didn't speak, just stared at his hands, and Chuck idly wondered if the agent were considering fastening them around his neck. Then … "My niece."

"Your … niece?" Chuck sat down on the bed.

"My sister's kid. She's got leukaemia, only it's being treated. And she lives at St Ursula's."

"Oh, Casey. I'm sorry."

He looked up. "Don't be. She's getting a lot better, and the doctors say she should be home soon." He looked almost sheepish. "That's where my money from the Buy More goes. The nuns don't want payment, but there's always expenses …"

"Oh."

"And I get to see my sister, even if it's only for twenty minutes every month." His mouth twitched. "It's more than I'm used to. There're been years without …" He stopped. "Anyway, that's why."

"What about her father? I mean, your niece's …"

"He's not in the picture any more." He grunted. "He was an asshole."

There was something in Casey's tone that had Chuck imagining a number of possible scenarios, including a body buried in the upright of an overpass, or deep in a hole in the desert … "Right."

"He left before April was born."

"Ah." So maybe not so much with the heavy digging.

"We're all we've got."

"Not so, good buddy," Chuck said. "You got me."

"Uh huh." Casey stood up, the look on his face back to its stoic mask. He stepped outside and headed towards his apartment.

Chuck waited a moment then followed. "Casey?"

The older man didn't turn. "Yeah?"

"When you go again, maybe you'd let me buy her something. Maybe a teddy bear. Or something."

"Why?"

"She's your niece. Your family. I'd … I'd like to."

There was a long and pregnant pause until finally … "Next month. And she likes pink." Casey strode away, going into his place without another word, the door slamming closed behind him.

Chuck sat down slowly on the little wall surrounding the fountain, a big smile on his face. Maybe Casey was human after all.


End file.
